My state as I wrote this at 6am on a chilly Monday morning could at best be described as ‘under the weather.’ I had woken up an hour or so earlier with a sore throat, a pain in the chest and aches in the limbs that suggested a nocturnal work out – the way some people only gym in their dreams (unlike our colleague Cate Mukei who, in her Facebook pictures and in hugs, is starting to look and feel alarmingly pumped).
I hoped fervently that the uchungu in the chest wouldn’t become a cough because I had this visa interview later on at some European embassy – one small cough and those mzungus imagine a wannabe has ebola or purple fever or some other exotic African ailment; and you are trying to smuggle some epidemic into their country.